They Would be Heroes
by LovesAngst
Summary: Following a bout of illness Merlin has been temporarily left without his magic.  Together the arrogant prince and his clumsy manservant must face an unknown danger—leaving one terrified friend willing to do anything to save the other.  Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

They Would be Heroes.

Following a bout of illness Merlin has been temporarily left without his magic. Together the arrogant prince and his clumsy manservant must face an unknown danger—leaving one terrified friend willing to do anything to save the other.

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Gaius slowly awoke to an unusual sound. As he lay on his back, staring at the low ceiling in the half-light of a Camelot morning, he tried to place the noise. A strange sputtering, fizzling sound. Like a strand of hair singed above a flame. Suddenly a series of angry little pops were added into the mix. Gods, this was going to be another long day Gaius thought. It was quiet for a moment before the pop, pop, fizzle started up again.

"Merlin," Gaius began, hand over his eyes "how many times must I tell you? Your magic will be gone for weeks yet. For the sake of all that is good just start the blasted fire the way the rest of us _mere mortals_ do." He heard his ward huff in annoyance. With that, the old physician rolled towards the wall—he wasn't getting up until the stubborn boy had a nice warm fire going.

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When he finally pulled his tired old frame out of bed, Gaius spotted Merlin sitting gloomily at the kitchen table. Not again he thought. "Merlin. Stop that sulking at once." He softened his tone as though speaking to a wayward kitten "My boy, this isn't going to last forever but the fact is you were very sick for the best part of 20 days. Your magic will take at least that long—if not longer to heal."

"I know Gaius." The young wizard looked up at Gaius with sad eyes "But I hate it. I've never lost my ability like this before."

"You've never been that ill before." To say Merlin had been ill was an understatement. For a brief time Gaius had been terrified the boy would die. Meningitis was almost always fatal—wizard or not.

Once again Gaius sent a silent thanks to whatever deity might be listening—then began setting out the bread and cheese.

"Eat up and then off you go. Arthur will have you in the stocks if you're late again."

Gaius knew this wasn't entirely true. Arthur had been uncharacteristically easy on his wayward manservant since Merlin's illness. The prince had been as worried as he himself had been.

I'm not the only one, Gaius mused, that Merlin managed to damn near worry the life out of. With a smile the physician concluded that although Arthur would never admit it, Merlin was having a positive effect on him.

The boy chugged down his cup of milk and grabbed a bit of cheese to take with him. "Alright, I'm off then Gaius!"

Gaius knew his ward well and in one smooth move grabbed up his cup and plate just in time. Merlin looked surprised as his knee smashed the underside of the table, knocking everything else over. Again.

"Sorry!" He quipped, knocking a knife and spoon to the floor even as he tried to capture a rolling mug.

"Leave it Merlin. Go, go, I'll take care if this."

"Thanks Gaius, see you tonight then."

"Yes, yes. Be safe Merlin."

"Always am Gaius!" the boy quipped.

Gaius rolled his eyes…his young ward was the most foolhardy young man he'd met. "Merlin?" the boy obediently turned to Gaius, obviously feigning patience "Remember—without your magic you must be extra cautious."

"Yes, yes…I'll be."

With a grin Gaius adored, Merlin was off.

"Dear, dear, dear boy" Gaius mumbled he set about tidying the table.

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Merlin barged into Arthur's chambers, food tray teetering in front of him, knocking the door open with his backside. "Sorry I'm late Arthur…" As he turned Merlin saw the prince was sitting at his desk with a stranger—both looking at the brash servant as though he'd sprouted a second head. Merlin straightened and added calmly "I've brought you your meal, Sire." He even impressed himself, throwing in a small bow of his head.

Arthur sighed and rubbed the side of his face "Yes. Thank you Merlin. As always, your refinement is astounding."

Merlin placed the tray of food between the men and set about tidying Arthur's chambers as they spoke. He couldn't help but listen in.

"As I was saying your majesty…"

Merlin snorted, quietly

"The creature is apparently enormous, tall as two men. It has taken goats and swine. The traveler…you'll remember his horse was mauled…is fairly certain we are dealing with a werewolf. The horse later died."

"Yes, so you've said."

"Please Sire; I need to know what to tell the villagers. They are terrified—struck with worry. What if a child were to be taken next?"

"Of course." Arthur sounded as calm and nonplussed as if he were discussing crops. "Tell the citizens that I will bring some knights and investigate immediately." Merlin inwardly groaned and moved to Arthur's hunting gear. He'd need to pack.

"Thank you!" the little man rose, voice high and cheery. He was obviously pleased and eager to be out of the prince's chambers. "I am so glad the king sent me to see you!"

Merlin could almost hear Arthur's thoughts on being pulled from his bed to talk with this little sparrow of a man. Merlin was proud of Arthur's self control as he rose and saw the other to the door. "Fine, fine, then. They may expect us in a few hours."

After a flurry of nods, bows, and thank-yous, Arthur closed the door and made his way to the breakfast tray.

"Merlin…"

From deep in the weapons cabinet Merlin quipped, "Pack your gear, yes, I know."

"Either you are a mind reader or you were eavesdropping Merlin."

The boy turned from the cabinet, clumsily lugging assorted weapons and bits of body armor to the bed. "I don't believe, Sire, I'd want to know what is going on in your mind most of the time."

"Indeed. You would not." Merlin could hear the grin behind the prince's sarcasm.

Servant and master spent the next moments in a comfortable silence. Merlin packing and Arthur eating.

Finally, Arthur rose "I am going to speak to the knights." He pointed at the half-full tray "Finish off that bit of breakfast there Merlin and have everything ready within the hour."

"Of course Arthur. Once I'm done here, I'll run home to pack a satchel for myself as well."

Merlin waited—breath held. He hadn't been out with Arthur and the knights since his illness and hoped Arthur didn't plan to leave him behind.

The prince stopped, one hand on the door handle, and looked back. Merlin was awkwardly trying to shove something into a too-small sack. As he looked up questioningly, Merlin noted bits and bobs of gear were strewn all over the room, the bed had yet to be made. Clothes, books, and training weapons from yesterday were everywhere. Gads! Was that a dead pheasant under the nightstand?

"And Merlin, do clean up this mess."

"Right, of course Sire." Merlin thought he'd really better put a bit more effort into his role. For a few days at least.

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Without his magic, Merlin was hard-pressed to gather both his and Arthur's gear and tidy his master's chambers in the hour Arthur was gone. He'd just stuffed a huge pile of mess under the prince's bed—it would have to do for now—and had poked the feathered mess out from under the nightstand with his foot. Gads…it _was_ a dead pheasant! Merlin had no idea how long it had been there for but he was certainly glad Arthur hadn't seen it. Screwing up his features in disgust, Merlin held the offending corpse as far from himself as he could—a scruffy wingtip gingerly held between his thumb and forefinger. The creak of the chamber door signaled Arthur's return and without a thought Merlin turned quickly and flung the feathery mess out the nearest window.

"Sire! You're back."

"Yes Merlin, I'm back." Arthur looked at his fidgeting manservant suspiciously "You were expecting someone else perhaps?"

"Of course not. You just surprised me is all." Merlin tried to speak over the sound of surprised voices wafting through the open window. "Everything is ready to go."

Arthur stood as Merlin helped the prince into his mail, gloves, and gauntlets. As Merlin buckled Arthur's scabbard on he asked what he'd been wondering all morning. "Do you really think it's a werewolf?"

"Don't be such a girl Merlin."

"I'm _not_ being a girl." His voice came out far whinier than he'd intended. "I was just curious. Curious."

"No Merlin I don't think there's a werewolf terrorizing Elswick." Arthur wandered over to his cupboard to gather a few extra items, speaking over his shoulder. "First off, I don't think there's any such thing as werewolves. Second, if there was I'd think it would have better things to be doing than eating goats and spooking horses."

As the prince turned back to his task Merlin was sure he heard "Girl" again.

As Merlin worked on a snappy retort, the king himself stepped regally into the room. Glancing at his son's manservant with his usual level of distain Uther barked "You. Merbert. Is Arthur taking the knights to Elswick?"

"_Merlin._" Arthur drawled as he sauntered into the main room. "It's Merlin father. And yes, we will be leaving right away."

"Good." With a curt nod the king was gone.

As the two boys left for the stables, Merlin started in again. "Really Arthur, are you sure it is a wise practice to stir up a werewolf? Or whatever it is?"

For his part, the prince didn't even slow down as he spoke. "Aren't you the one always on about how I should be _listening_ to the people?" His voice seemed dipped in mockery "How I should strive to show them I _care_?"

"Well _Sire_…" if Arthur could be sarcastic, so could Merlin "I hardly meant you should feed us to a werewolf to mollify them!"

"Merlin. There is no such creature. I imagine that there is a lone wolf in the area. Or a sick one. They can be quite dangerous, especially to children. We will set off, dispatch it, and be back in time for _you_ to serve _me_ dinner." Arthur's offhand tone suggested that he'd dealt with this type of situation dozens of times.

Merlin would have bet a sack of gold (never mind that he had never even _seen_ a sack of gold) that dinner would have to wait. He hated the idea of Arthur matched up against some horrible beast. Merlin knew he'd be next-to-useless with his own abilities on the mend.

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Please please please take a second and let me know what you think. I adore reviews . I'm crazy busy at then moment but promise I will try and update as soon as I can.

LA

Fyi, the bout of illness Gaius refers to at the beginning can be found in an earlier fanfic _How I Remember It_.


	2. Chapter 2

The prince was no where near as oblivious as his manservant seemed to think. He noticed Merlin looking down, worrying at the leather thong he liked to wear round his wrist.

A nervous gesture.

No matter that he'd known his servant for years now, Merlin was still a mystery. He could be foolishly brave—rash to a fault—at times leaving Arthur near-breathless with fear. Not that he would ever admit it. At other times—like the present—Merlin was a complete ninny. Arthur had no idea which he preferred.

"Like I said, don't be such a _girl_ Merlin. I will be back for supper. You can come or not."

They'd reached the stables and as Merlin looked up, Arthur thrust out his shoulder armor impatiently. "Well? It's not going to put it self on Merlin."

"Right. Sorry sire!" and with that, the subject seemed closed.

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Once everyone was mounted up, the prince led the small band with Merlin riding at his side as usual (never mind what others thought of a servant's place). As Merlin glanced back he could see the others were completely unperturbed—they looked like they were enjoying a leisurely trip through the woods.

Arthur and the knights discussed politics and horse-flesh in the region as they sauntered along. Slowly, Merlin's shoulders—which had been hiked up around his ears with tension—relaxed. His death-grip on the reins began to loosen. Maybe Arthur had been right…perhaps he'd overreacted.

As they neared Elswick, Sir Goodwater couldn't help but poke a bit of fun at the prince. They'd known each other since they were both boys. Pointing at a swayback nag blinking wearily at them from behind a short stone fence he quipped, "that bit of flesh reminds me of your first love Arthur. Remember Rosalind The Timid? Oh how she mooned for you. Looked just like that pretty one over there!"

Merlin snorted.

"Baildon!" Though his voice was stern, Arthur's smirk and use of the knight's first name said otherwise. "Poor Rose looked nothing like that animal! Your twin sister on the other hand…" The group sniggered as the first homes drew into sight.

They'd been expected and a villager rushed out to greet the small party with a deep bow. He was taller than the man Arthur'd talked to in the morning but the bird-like features suggested a family tie. "Sire."

Arthur looked imperiously down from the saddle—once again acting like a horse's arse Merlin thought. At times it seemed arrogance was as integral to Arthur's person as the prince's untidy blond hair.

Merlin cleared his throat nosily and gave Arthur a glance that stated as clearly as any words could "Get off your high horse Arthur."

Arthur rolled his eyes but dismounted. Merlin and the knights followed suit.

"Good sir…" the prince began.

Though Arthur didn't see it, Merlin smiled at his master's back. Haughtiness might come naturally to Arthur, but he was certainly willing to try and overcome his faults. Most of the time. He was going to be an amazing king.

"Sire. Thank you so much for coming…" the bird-man rung his hands and glanced nervously at his feet.

"What is it?" the prince asked.

"Do you think you have…do you think you brought enough men sire?" The farmer's gaze flickered to Merlin who likely looked like he'd be of no use at all. Perhaps—the farmer's expression seemed to wonder—the prince had brought this narrow servant as bait?

"We will be fine…" Arthur grumbled, earning himself another glance from Merlin and added "thank you. Please, where was the creature last seen?"

"If you are sure Sire." With Arthur's nod he continued "The _monster_ attacked my sister's husband as he rode in the day before last." He pointed down a narrow trail; the trees formed a shadowy green archway "a short bit that way."

Arthur simply nodded. Almost as one, the prince and the knights swung up onto their mounts. A moment later, Merlin had fumbled up onto his horse—somehow snagging his sheathed dagger on a stirrup—and they were off.

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The group was more subdued as they traveled the thin path. Arthur was not expecting a werewolf to leap out at them but neither was he stupid or frivolous with the lives of his men. It wasn't long before a set of tracks became apparent.

"What did I tell you? Wolf prints." Arthur muttered.

After an hour of tracking, back-tracking, and twice having to reestablish the trail the group indeed caught up with a wolf. As it streaked away through the underbrush, Merlin thought the animal a bit small to have taken all those goats—never mind to have killed a horse. He wished for the hundredth time that day for his magic.

But a moment later, the wolf was backed into a rocky outcrop; a semi-circle of Camelot's finest surrounding it. Sir Kay dismounted lightly and approached carefully, broadsword first, as the others kept the animal in place.

Merlin felt for the trapped beast, he could feel its fear "Does it have to die Arthur?" he whispered.

"For the tenth time Merlin, yes. This animal has shown itself dangerous, how would I feel if it took a child next?"

In a blur of action, the scared creature leapt and Sir Kay caught it dead on, burying his sword into its chest.

"Excellent stroke!"

"Thank you Sire" Kay grunted with a grin.

It all happened (as these things do) in the blink of an eye.

Arthur turned towards Merlin, the knights moved to sheath their weapons, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, Kay pulled his sword free, and a huge mangy creature burst powerfully from the brush!

The beast charged forward, a mass of noise and fur. It swiped at the dismounted knight; Kay was dead before he hit the ground.

The horses were rearing even as Arthur and his men pulled for their swords. Merlin heard the ring of Arthur's sword being pulled smoothly from its scabbard.

In an instant, Merlin had leapt down to check the fallen knight; he hit the ground running "Sir Kay! Kay!" Merlin cursed his foolishness—he should have made sure they had never come here!

To Arthur's horror the massive bear swung towards his servant.

"Merlin! No!" he called out, as if hoping his words could somehow reverse time and the oaf would be back on his horse—not standing in front of a charging beast.

For a moment, all Arthur could see was the wide back, muscles rippling under spotty patches and loose clumps of fur. The creature screamed—there was no other word for the sound that tore the air. A massive paw streaked towards his friend. The bear roared and swiped again.

Arthur felt as though his very self had drained away in one fell swoop—face and arms suddenly bloodless and cold. In unfettered panic he was off his horse, sword out, and running for the spot he's last seen his _utterly rash_ servant "Merlin!"

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In the short instant he'd knelt with the knight—trying to help the injured man—Merlin had been drenched in Kay's blood. He threw himself back just as the immense claws swished passed his face—so closely he was sure he saw them spatter gore. Pure terror flooding his veins Merlin could not have moved if his life depended on it.

Truthfully, it did.

In that moment, Merlin was frozen. Through the one tiny window in his mind still open, Merlin was vaguely aware that Arthur was screaming his name. He was even more vaguely aware that there was a note of fear in his prince's voice. Unable to do more than stare up as the bear reared back to strike him down, Merlin's mind became uniquely clear. He was going to be dead in a moment. Oh…Gaius, he thought sadly.

Then, Arthur was there.

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As their eyes locked, the prince's heart leapt—Merlin was alive!

Eyes wild, Arthur realized that his friend was covered in blood. The prince's gut clenched painfully. Merlin must have been mauled…the blood…Arthur didn't know what to do…couldn't think straight…

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Merlin saw Arthur's eyes flash relief then despair; the fallen boy's brain couldn't keep up.

For a quarter of an instant the prince stood brilliant in the sun, sword and mail shining, with a nod so brief Merlin might have imagined it, Arthur charged the creature. His sword darted forwards and disappeared into the bear. With a yell the prince leapt back as the dying creature struck out one last time.

It almost missed.

Two deadly claws ripped through Arthur's exposed flesh. One caught him under the left ear, the other inches below that. Both raked deep until the chain mail stopped them.

Merlin could not—would not—believe his senses. A primal scream tore from his parched throat "Arthur!"

Arthur's most loyal servant and companion sprang to his feet, bear and Kay completely forgotten. Time slowed to a stomach-turning crawl. Almost in-step with one another the bear folded—collapsing and Arthur spun loosely—sword dropping silently to the forest floor.

As Arthur fell to his knees, scarlet sparkled in the sun—pouring from his gaping wounds. Like a man exhausted, Arthur was toppling as Merlin finally reached his prince. With shaking arms Merlin lowered Arthur to the dusty ground. He didn't even hear himself screaming Arthur's name—the world having gone strangely silent.

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Arthur's head lolled and he lost consciousness to Merlin's screams.

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I know this chapter was a bit long, thanks for reading! Feedback pretty please?


	3. Chapter 3

Sir Baildon Goodwater _burst_ into Gaius' chamber followed by Sir Neidpath who was awkwardly carrying the prince. Merlin's horror hadn't diminished a whit over the hour-long trek back to the castle and he stumbled alongside the men, pressing a swath of blood-soaked cloth to Arthur's neck.

"Gaius!" Merlin yelled, hoping frantically that the physician was in his room. If Gaius wasn't there Merlin didn't know what he would do. In a blink Gaius emerged.

"Merlin! _Sire!_ What's happened?" Even as the physician spoke, the men arranged Arthur on the hard table which often served for examining the injured.

A quick glance at Merlin revealed him to be a wild-eyed mess. Blood soaked his clothes; his hands were covered in it to the elbows. There was a smear under his right eye. Neidpath was similarly bloodied.

"Gaius!" Merlin's voice was torn—part whisper part cry. "A bear…" he swallowed roughly, Gaius' grim expression wasn't lost on the boy. "This is all my fault…please, you _must_ help him!" Merlin was quickly becoming frantic, any semblance of calm gone now that he was in a familiar setting.

"Are you hurt Merlin?" the royal physician asked. On one hand he hoped none of the blood was Merlin's, on the other hand he knew if it was all Arthur's the prince was near death.

Merlin just shook his head. Feeling for all the world like he should be in Arthur's place. He blinked quickly, tears burning the backs of his eyes. If he opened his mouth to speak, Merlin thought he might just lose his control completely—and he certainly didn't trust his ability to get it back.

Gaius stepped up to his patient and deftly took over the pressure. Merlin's hands shook as he pulled them back. He had no idea what to do with them—the connection with his prince was broken and suddenly Merlin felt frighteningly alone. "Let me see." Gaius murmured kindly. Merlin held his breath.

After what seemed an eternity, Gaius' eyes roved up from the prince and caught his ward's. He spoke quietly, using the voice he reserved for frightened children and families of the gravely-ill. "This is a very bad injury Merlin." He didn't want to upset the boy but neither did he want him to be unprepared. He pressed on despite seeing Merlin's eyes fill with unshed tears. "The second tear is not too bad but I am very worried about the larger." Blood continued to flow freely from the top slash whenever the bandage was moved aside.

It seemed that the more Gaius tried to explain, the more agitated Merlin was becoming. The last thing Gaius needed was to have the boy go into shock. Merlin just looked at him; bloody fists clenched at his side…Gaius couldn't tell if the boy was hearing what he was saying. He tried another tact.

"Merlin."

A nod.

"Can you see this top tear?"

A twitchy nod.

"It has opened a blood vessel. I will see if I can stop the bleeding Merlin but I worry Arthur may have already lost too much blood." Merlin glared back, tears absolutely refusing to fall. The boy's eyes were impossibly full as Gaius turned back to his work.

"Goodwater."

"Yes Gaius…what can I do?"

"Please, send for Gwen to help me." Merlin was in no state and Gwen had helped with more than one patient. "Oh, and you had better bring the king. Neidpath? The fire, please my good lad. Then you may go."

Gaius kept pressure on the wound while he awaited Gwen's help. Suddenly, he was alone with the still, silent, and pale Arthur and the prince's devoted servant and friend—every bit as still, silent, and pale.

Gwen flew into the room before visibly calming herself. Gaius spoke to her and Merlin together. "Gwen, hold this tightly." He quickly gathered the necessary supplies. "I will try and stitch the blood vessel then close the wounds but we must prepare ourselves. Arthur has lost a great deal of blood. I do not know that he will live."

Merlin's silence broke like shard of pottery dropped from the tower "You must try!"

"Merlin, of course I will try…am trying in fact, but I am not a god."

As Gaius and Gwen began to work in earnest Merlin watched a puddle of royal blood growing around the table leg. Arthur's blood. His prince. His friend. It coursed from Arthur to the edge of the board then worked its way down the dry wood of the table leg to the floor. Where the pool grew. Merlin's ears began to ring—his vision narrowed until all he saw was blood. As the boy's face began to go numb he realized that he might very well faint. That would be another wonderful contribution for today—he wondered for a moment if he could possibly be any _more_ useless.

Uther chose that moment to surge into the physician's quarters, loudly demanding to know what was going on.

Gaius' tone was not unkind, but it was clear. "Sire, Merlin, I need both of you to sit over by the fire" Gaius distractedly pointed with his chin "I will have time to talk with you when I am done seeing to Arthur. Go."

With a glance at each other they did as they'd been told. The two men, young and old, small and large, meek and powerful, servant and king sat identically. Upright and tense, Adam's apples bobbing, feet pushing into the floor hard enough to make their legs quiver. They leaned identically forward, hands clasped, eyes glued to Arthur. The same. Except Merlin was painted in blood.

After a short time, Gaius pronounced that he had done all he could. He planned to watch Arthur carefully for the next few hours—should the stitches fail. It was clear to Gaius the Gwen was spent and Uther needed to feel of use. As such, he sent them ahead to prepare Arthur's chambers. They would need a warm fire, wood, cloths, water and so on. With a pained glance at his son, the king vowed that it would be so and left to make arrangements with Gwen following stiffly behind him.

Once Uther was gone, Gaius again tried to both calm and prepare Merlin for the worst. His words of caution seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Please Gaius, just tell me what I can do" the boy pleaded.

"Alright Merlin. Go, wash, get changed and then I will tell you what Arthur will need."

Merlin nodded and backed towards his room, afraid to look away from Arthur in case he should suddenly…disappear.

Within moments, he was back—hovering beside the prince. Merlin swiped his hand across the maddening wetness on his face.

"Tell me what we need to do Gaius."

"There is nothing more I can do as a physician. What the prince needs now is nursing."

Merlin's voice wavered "I can do that" and almost broke. He cleared his throat and pressed on "I can. I'll do anything."

Gaius felt for his young ward. Merlin was a gentle soul, it pained Gaius to see him suffer so "I know that Merlin. The most important factors will be warmth, watching for infection, and dealing with the…extreme…blood loss. Arthur must begin regaining his blood. You will need to get as much fluid into him as possible."

Merlin spoke to Gaius but his eyes never left Arthur's silent face. "I can do that. I will do that. He's my best friend Gaius!"

The older man nodded "It is not going to be that easy. I'm afraid Arthur has already lost too much blood." He sighed, feeling old and tired "he may be too perilously ill to keep anything down."

Merlin would hear nothing of it and simply insisted again and again that he would do whatever was necessary. Without noticing, Merlin had covered Arthur's cool hand with his own—desperate to do _something_.

"You are a wonderful friend to Arthur, Merlin. No matter what happens, you can not forget that."

Merlin pulled his hand back from Arthur's, burned by guilt. "I knew something would happen…I should have stopped us going. If only I had my magic, if only I'd been _stronger_…"

"Merlin. My boy." Gaius gently touched Merlin's shoulder "You know very well that's not how it works."

As he spoke to the man he considered a father, Merlin's voice broke with a sob he had been holding since the prince fell "But he sacrificed himself to save me!" Merlin gestured wildly between himself and the prince. "Arthur is worth ten of me! A hundred!"

Although Gaius said nothing, he made a note to himself that perhaps the prince would disagree.

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Thank you for the feedback so far…I cherish your comments…please let me know what you think!

Best,

LA


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin and Gaius followed the men bearing the prince to his chambers. Once Arthur's room came into sight, Merlin rushed ahead.

As Merlin pulled the covers aside for the prince, Uther spoke.

"Gaius." His voice held perhaps half of its usual force.

"My lord."

As Gaius looked over at the bed he saw Merlin getting Arthur tucked in. The others filed out of the room. His ward then set to checking the prince's bandages.

"Gaius. I've a woman who will nurse Arthur." Uther stopped for a moment. What else was there to say?

"Thank you for thinking ahead sire. That said…" Gaius paused, eyeing Merlin as he fussed quietly at Arthur's side "Merlin has been training under me sire, he knows what he is doing. I do not believe there is anyone in the kingdom that would give the prince better care than Merlin."

On that, Gaius would have bet what was left of his life.

Both men turned to look over at the boys. Merlin was speaking to Arthur in hushed and calm tones as he carefully hauled his master up enough to tip a sip of water into his mouth.

"That's it Arthur…"

Merlin's whisper carried across the air like a secret revealed. Thick emotion lay only a hair beneath the surface of his words.

"Gaius says that you need to keep drinking, so that is what we are going to do. One more. One more and I will settle you in alright? Alright."

For his part, the king's eyes flashed pain as he nodded, jaw clenched.

Gaius approached the boys slowly, not wanting to startle Merlin who looked as though he was working hard to hold a thin layer of control. The boy looked as he did when holding a strong and complex spell.

"That's very good Merlin. Also, when he's lying down, keep the prince's feet elevated." Together they worked a fat white pillow under the prince's calves. "The little blood he has may stay in his chest." Merlin simply nodded and turned to wring out a bit of cloth to wipe Arthur's brow with.

The worry and fear were plain in both the boy's voice and in the tremor of his hands "He's cold Gaius."

Gaius felt Arthur's wrist. His pulse was weak but perhaps no weaker than before…it was difficult to tell.

"I know. Keep the fire high for now. But if he begins to fever, send for me. An infection would be very dangerous."

Merlin nodded "I will." He couldn't remember being so afraid. "Can't you stay Gaius? Please?"

"Merlin. There is nothing more I can do for the prince. I am sorry. I am sure you can…" the physician was at a loss for words "keep him comfortable. I'm sorry Merlin."

Gaius rested his hand on Merlin's shoulder for a moment, exchanged worried nods with Uther, and took his leave.

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Gaius had said Arthur needed nursing care and that is _exactly_ what Merlin set out to do. This was _his_ fault. He channeled his fear into action, into positive wishes for Arthur.

Minutes quickly became an hour.

Over and over Merlin would move from his chair to the bed, pull his master to him—resting the back of the prince's head in the crook of his arm—and tilt the little cup of water to Arthur's lips.

As time trickled past, Uther became a ghost, moving silently from a chair by the fire to a spot by the window. Then back. At times he left the room—Merlin never seemed to notice and was always surprised when the king came up to the bed to check on Arthur. He said not one word.

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Arthur was solidly built—heavy as a damp log—but Merlin patently ignored the growing weariness in his arms. Just as he ignored the nagging lump in his throat.

Arthur _needed_ him. Needed him to be strong.

Though the injured man was unconscious, he was swallowing when water was poured in. Merlin took that to be a good sign.

Until it wasn't.

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In a rush, Arthur's chest heaved. Once. Twice. The sound of his gagging loud in the hushed room. Merlin sprang to the bed, quickly rolling Arthur onto his side.

Arthur promptly vomited up every drop of water he'd swallowed.

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This was just a small setback. Small. Setback. To be expected. Now the real improvements could begin. Now Arthur would get better.

_That_ is what Merlin told himself as he gently wiped Arthur's face and neck then settled him back on a fresh pillow. Arthur seemed nearly as white as the pillow case.

The lump in Merlin's throat was painful and he forcefully swallowed it down before speaking.

"Ok Arthur. Now that you've got that out of the way and you're feeling better we are just going to have to start over again. With the water." There was so much more Merlin wanted to say but he stopped. That damnable lump was back with a vengeance.

Once again, minutes turned into an hour.

Time over time, Merlin worked Arthur's head into the crook of his arm and waited as he swallowed. Then he carefully lay Arthur back and put his hand over the prince's.

So he would know Merlin was there.

Sometimes, when he could, Merlin whispered "Please Arthur, just keep that down. Please, just for a few minutes. Please…"

Time over time Arthur's body fought back, one or two hoarse retches was all the notice poor Merlin had to roll Arthur onto his side before the prince threw up each hard-won sip.

When Gaius dropped by to check Arthur, his expression was not one of hope.

Day slipped into night.

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The next time Merlin tiredly bent and slid his thin arm—shaking from the effort—under Arthur strong shoulders, Merlin's heart nearly stopped.

With one hurried swipe he yanked the covers aside and lay a hand to Arthur's head.

In two long strides, Uther was there "What? What is wrong?"

Merlin looked up at the king with panic in his eyes, station forgotten, "Fever—get Gaius!"

Uther's bellow was hoarse and rang with alarm "Guard!"

Immediately, Sir Goodwater opened the door. He'd been perched there for hours. "Sire?"

"Gaius! Get Gaius."

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For a moment, Gaius lingered in the door way, unseen.

Uther was standing, hard and still as a statue by the window.

Merlin awkwardly rolled Arthur onto his side and put a rag by his mouth.

Gaius feared the worst, the prince was utterly limp. He was dangerously flushed, hair dark with sweat.

Merlin's hand absently rubbed circles on the hot damp back of his friend and master—after a second or two, Arthur twitched weakly and vomited. Again.

Sensing Gaius, Merlin turned to the door, one hand on Arthur.

Gaius was shocked to see how terrible Merlin looked!

The dear boy hadn't eaten or slept since the day before—he'd refused. In the few hours since Gaius had seen him last, Merlin had clearly become physically exhausted. Emotionally spent. He was as pale as Arthur was flushed. His eyes were dark, sunken pools of fear.

Gaius couldn't help but place his hand on the boy's thin shoulder.

Like a torn curtain, Merlin's composure slipped "Please…" his voice was cut off by emotion.

Merlin swiped his hand across his suddenly wet eyes "Please, Gaius. He's hot."

The king spoke; Merlin had forgotten he was there. "He's not been able to keep the water down Gaius."

Merlin nodded miserably but fought to stay composed. If he fell apart, Uther would have someone else care for Arthur.

Though he harboured no false hope, Gaius spoke as comfortingly as he could—he felt Merlin's shoulders hitching under his touch. "It's alright. Come now. Let me see."

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Sorry for the long wait! Thank you all so much for your feedback so far. Please take a second and let me know what you think!

LA


	5. Chapter 5

Though he harboured no false hope, Gaius spoke as comfortingly as he could—he felt Merlin's shoulders hitching under his touch. "It's alright. Come now. Let me see."

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Gaius had been able to do little for the failing prince besides suggesting the obvious. The fire was doused, covers drawn aside, and continued cold cloths and water prescribed. He and Merlin managed to get a potion for the fever into Arthur before Gaius turned to go.

The physician had rounds to make, people who needed him. Sadly, Gaius knew his time was better spent with those he could help.

That didn't make it any easier to leave Arthur—who Gaius had spent countless hours with over the past 18 years. He'd come to respect and like the boy very much. No, Gaius thought with grief, Arthur would not need his services much longer.

He also hated to leave Merlin. Gaius vowed to spend tomorrow and the next day caring for his nephew.

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Although Merlin would not have thought it possible, Arthur had grown limper.

Heavier.

More eerily still.

_It didn't matter_ Merlin's mind insisted. He had a job to do, a friend to care for and he was bloody well going to do it!

Despite his best efforts, Merlin's bout of frenzied optimism was short lived. Though the young servant balanced Arthur fevered shoulders across his lap, Arthur was no longer swallowing. Most offered water just trickled out the corner of his mouth.

As Merlin carefully wiggled out from under Arthur's shoulders, settling him back onto the mattress the exhausted boy's heart sank further. The rest of the water washed back up. There was no warning, as if Arthur had not even the energy to vomit.

"Please…" Merlin whispered "Please don't do this Arthur…"

Merlin carefully rolled Arthur onto his side again. The prince's arm dropped limply to the mattress, water trickled from his slack mouth.

**Merlin's own throat closed harshly, his whole body heavy as marble.**

**For disorenting moment ****the world seemed to flex and dim. His mind spun cruely as he watched Arthur, limp and motionless before him. Barely breathing. **

**He'd give anything, ****_anything_**** to have let the bear take him with that first swipe. If only Merlin hadn't jumped back. ****_If only!_**

**Arthur**** would never have been injured. **

**And ****Merlin would be dead. **

**He**** knew full well that he wasn't a strong person and would never have survived such an injury. He also knew that to be a price he'd having willingly paid. **

**Merlin**** closed his eyes. For a second he felt so close to that other possibility that he could almost see it. If only. If only! Eyes screwed tight, Merlin wished with all his might, summoned every scrap of magic in his being. He wished to change just that ****_one instant_**** of the past. **

**Gr****abbing blindly for Arthur's lifeless hand Merlin's mind screamed to the universe "Me! Me. Take me. Please? Please!"**

**The world wobbled. Arthur's manservant held his breath. ****Nothing changed. Past was past.**

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**T****ime passed and Merlin could not tear his eyes away from Arthur. T**he prince's whole body twitched feebly, once, twice. Again. As an abandoned corpse, shaken roughly by the unfeeling hand of Death himself.

Gods, Merlin's eyes welled; Arthur was like a rag doll!

Terror that had been sharpened to a deadly point began to dull; to become hopelessness. An image flashed, like lightning across Merlin's darkened mind. He saw himself, standing with the throngs, at Arthur's burial. Would a servant even be allowed to a royal funeral he wondered?

The very idea tore painfully at Merlin's insides and—long in coming—Merlin's composure slipped.

Like a flash of lightning in a blue sky, Merlin's fist smashed down onto the bedside table!

In a chair by the fire, Uther jerked to his feet—started out of his reverie.

Merlin's mind protested. Damn it all! It was as if Arthur wasn't even _trying_ anymore.

As if he was already gone.

Merlin couldn't stifle a sob of frustration, eyes glued to Arthur's pitiful form. "Don't you dare Arthur!" he barked "Don't you dare die! You just can't...you can't…"

As Merlin slowly lowered his elbows to his knees, his face to his hands, Merlin's sleeves slid down his boney arms.

By a thread. He was holding on by a thread.

Just as the king was about to step forward, the serving boy regained control.

Dragging shaky hands down his weary face, Merlin spoke with a voice both strong and pinched. "Alright Arthur." With forced calm Merlin picked up the items he'd knocked about. "You are really getting your silver's worth out of me today."

"You are not going to like this but you leave me no choice." Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, easing Arthur from his side onto his back again.

"_You_ need water and _I_ need to make sure you keep from drowning your fool self."

With one hand on the nape of his friend's neck and the other at his back, Merlin leaned into Arthur and pulled him up, positioning the prince upright, his chin resting on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin hugged his injured master to himself—Merlin's left arm around the prince's back and his right gently holding Arthur's head.

Merlin took a moment to relish Arthur's substance. He _was_ alive. Merlin could feel his friend's shallow, laboured breaths. Arthur's burning, damp chest radiated through Merlin's thin shirt.

For a moment, Merlin closed his eyes, resting the side of his head on Arthur's.

Dark hair mixing with light, pale skin against flushed. Merlin's throat worked furiously, swallowing back threatening despair.

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Still on his feet, Uther watched the scene before him carefully. He knew that should Arthur live, it would be because of this ridiculous manservant.

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With resolve, Merlin took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and began again. "Sire?"

Arthur's father was at his side in the blink of an eye "I'm here Merlin. What can I do?"

"Can you use the spoon" Merlin pointed with his head "and see if you can get Arthur to take some water?"

"Of course." Uther sat a bit awkwardly on the edge of the bed and reached for the cup and spoon.

"I think" said Merlin "maybe, if we keep Arthur more upright, that the vomiting might end."

Clearly, neither knew what else to do.

And so they sat.

Uther fed his son small spoons of water. Merlin held the crown prince upright. Held him long past fatigue, hours past endurance.

Several times Uther caught the boy nodding off. Saw him twitching back to semi-awareness. Sitting on the bed behind Merlin, face-to-face with his son, the king watched the serving boy's back. Watched the muscles quaking below his tunic. The look in the ruler's eyes might have been respect.

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Merlin had begun to nod off again when the king's voice rumbled low "Merlin."

Adrenaline flooded Merlin's veins; he jerked upright, clutching Arthur tightly. He pulled back enough to look into his friend's face.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Merlin." Uther nodded towards the door. "Gaius is here."

From the doorway, Gaius' had feared the worst, he'd seen the three men piled on the narrow bed, Merlin holding Arthur for dear life, Uther unreadable as usual.

"Sire. Merlin."

For the first time in hours, Merlin really took stock. His head snapped up "Gaius! He's held down the water!"

Uther smiled weakly "It's true Gaius. And I believe the fever has broken."

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Thank you for reading! Last little chapter should be up soon…feedback please?


	6. Chapter 6

With hope in their movements, Gaius and Uther helped Merlin settle Arthur back onto the cool pillows. After hours of clutching Arthur, Merlin's arms and shoulders burned through to his thin bones.

"Sire. Merlin." Gaius spoke with a smile to the two exhausted men standing at Arthur's bedside. "The prince is very lucky to have you both. I do believe that he is on the mend. Baring another infection, I think Arthur shall live."

Merlin felt his knees buckling; his relief a physical thing. In a flash, Gaius' surprisingly strong hand gripped Merlin's elbow, lowering the boy gently. Merlin melted into the chair with relief.

The smile that graced the king's face was as real and genuine as Gaius had ever seen it "This is wonderful news! Amazing really." Uther's voice broke for an instant and he brought a fist to his mouth "I must tell the others." Then, he was gone.

Finding himself suddenly alone with only Gaius and an unconscious Arthur, Merlin's voice came high and fast. "Oh, bloody hell. He's going to live. Arthur. Arthur is going to _live_. He'll be alright Gaius. I told you! I knew it." His bitten-off laugh bordered on hysterical. Gaius simply listened, one hand on Merlin's hot shoulder. Waiting. Merlin's laugh turned to a cough. His cough to a sob. "Oh God. He was dying. Right there Gaius! Arthur…"

"Shhh. Shhhh my boy, Arthur will be alright."

"But. But, he almost…" Merlin couldn't continue. With a hand over his eyes Merlin finally gave in to his fear and guilt. There was no holding back the broken sobs that had threatened to choke him since the moment he lowered his bleeding master to the forest floor.

Arthur. His friend—he had very, _very_ nearly lost Arthur.

After a moment, Merlin managed a halfway good attempt at control. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and stood. "There's no crying. There's no crying at such wonderful news. Right Arthur? Gaius?"

"You're right, of course Merlin. The news _is_ good. But…" Gaius held up his hand to interrupt before the poor boy got going again "you _must_ rest. I will stay; you will go home to eat and sleep."

"But…"

Gaius' face was stern. He hated to be hard on the boy, but was doing it for his own good. He could only imagine the hell to pay should Arthur awake only to find Merlin keeled over from exhaustion or shock. "I will have the guards take you if I must."

Merlin knew when he was beat and gave his mentor a watery smile. "Alright. Alright. You win. Just give me a moment."

Gaius nodded and set about getting the fire going again. Glancing back over his shoulder the tired but grateful physician saw Merlin carefully tucking a thin sheet around his master, talking happily the whole time. Merlin's animated features became serious again, the shadow of what-could-have-been haunting his young eyes. Gaius looked back to the fire.

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Merlin's forehead wrinkled for a moment, he glanced back at Gaius then turned back to Arthur. Letting out a shaky breath, he began "Great bloody hell Arthur." He paused so long anyone else would have thought the conversation was finished. Arthur waited. "I was so scared. I…I was such a fool to put myself in a spot where I needed rescuing. I almost cost you your life Arthur. Can you imagine?" Merlin shook his head roughly. "I'd never been able to live with that. Not ever."

Gaius grumbled from a chair by the fire "Merlin…"

"One more minute Gaius, then I'll sleep for a week if you want."

Gaius had his doubts.

"Anyway, Arthur. What I really wanted to say, well, you can _never_ do this again. I'm not joking Arthur. You are Camelot's prince. You will be king. You must know better than to put yourself at such risk. Foolish, foolish risk." Merlin was as serious as he'd ever been, "You, Arthur Pendragon, are meant to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen. And you know how I feel about the people of Camelot…" Merlin's grin was a bit stronger now "Arthur, you absolutely cannot abandon these people. Not ever."

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Gaius' eyes snapped open as Arthur moaned.

"Sire." Gaius lay his hand over the princes'. "Just lay still, rest."

Arthur cracked his eyes open a slit and immediately regretted the move. Gods, he hurt. Everywhere. With a sluggish mind the prince slowly realized that the warm hand covering his own belonged to the loyal court physician. But…but, if Gaius was at his bedside, where on earth was Merlin?

In a rush, Arthur was assaulted by his own memory. Images and sounds as real as life smashed his tired mind.

The bear. Sir Kay. Merlin.

Merlin.

Merlin covered in blood, Merlin screaming Arthur's name!

With a pained jerk, Arthur closed his eyes, turning away. It would never do to come apart in front of Gaius.

The weakened prince's throat closed utterly.

"Sire? Arthur, are you alright?" Gaius' voice held the beginnings of worry. "Please, speak to me, are you having pain?"

Gaius' concern quickly built—over mere seconds Arthur's face had gone a sickly gray. His breathing turned harsh and fast. The physician grabbed Arthur's wrist; the prince's heart was speeding. "Sire!"

Gaius held his breath. A heartbeat passed. Another.

Arthur's voice was hushed and raw. Almost tender. Only one word escaped him. "Merlin."

Gaius was confused; the prince took Gaius' silence as an answer.

This was not how it was supposed to be.

Voice sticking in his throat, Arthur choked. His worst fear—realized. "He is dead then?"

Gaius leaned into Arthur's line of sight. "No! Sire!" The prince's eyes were a heartbreaking mirror of Merlin's hours earlier. "Arthur…look at me. Merlin is fine." Confused eyes blinked slowly back at him. "You saved Merlin sire. He is fine. Fine. I sent him to sleep!" Gaius smiled broadly.

No other words were needed.

The prince was suddenly weary beyond measure. "Sleep Arthur." Gaius held a cup to the prince's lips, giving him something for pain, fever and sleep. In a moment Arthur's breathing was deep and even.

Gaius shook his head and sat. He absolutely could not imagine either of the boys—arrogant brave prince or clumsy sweet manservant—without the other. He truly hoped he would never have to tell one that the other had been lost. Truly.

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A few hours later, Merlin found himself back in Arthur's room. Although still not nearly rested enough, he had to come. "I can't sleep anymore Gaius, really, I'll just rest here."

Gaius said nothing—he wasn't a young man anymore and had no energy left to argue with his errant young ward.

Merlin sagged, physically spent and mentally elated, into his chair at Arthur's bedside. As he closed his eyes—just for a moment—Merlin made a mental promise to himself. He had been lucky this time. Lucky Arthur was strong. Lucky Arthur had _survived_. He would, he promised, redouble his efforts. Would to do anything in his power to protect his prince, future king, and closest friend.

Merlin vowed, if ever again a life needed to be given _that life would never be Arthur's. Never._

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The end!

Thank you for reading. I live for reviews, so please take a second and let me know how you found this bit of writing. In my little universe, this story takes place not long after _How I Remember It_ and some time before the ultra-angsty _Shuffling Destiny's Cards_.


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